Absolution
by RingsAkhaten
Summary: On a dark, desert highway, Diego has a date with destiny. Trippy and Shippy, Alternative Universe, and adult content in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The deep orange hues of the setting sun painted the butes a deep shade red, their long shadows crawling over the grey, empty road ahead.

It had been early morning when Diego had left the flickering lights of L.A. behind him, his body and mind heated and tensed, heavy with worries, and now he was thankful for the setting sun.

His helmet and leathers, still dampened from the searing heat, were now cooled and soothing and his troubled thoughts had quieted, turning deeply inward.

Father had called this trip his Willoughby. To Alejandro, it was simply his son's means of escape, a place Diego's mind had manufactured when he could no longer cope with his stress. The word carried an implicit, double meaning, a warning to his idle, feckless son who might lose himself in his fantasy.

For Diego, it had always been real. At night, he dreamed of the riding in the vast, lonely desert and by day he planned, studying maps and taking courses on wilderness survival, his whole life spent in prepartion for the moment.

For a time, Alejandro's words had laid heavy on his mind and heart, speaking to some small part of him, anxious, filled with an aching dread, and odd sense of doom and fate. Many days, he simply stared at the bike in the driveway, fearing even to dream.

In the end, even Alejandro couldn't silence the inner voice, and the sweet dreams returned. He began with small excursons, traveling just far enough to see his world reduced to a small strip of shimmering light. Just long enough to hear the warning shouts in his head quieten to small and soft whispers.

Now, with each mile, each turn, and each bluff and bute, that life fell further behind him. Tonight, L.A. was so far distant that it might only have existed in some day of the past.

On this road, in the dying light, the last vestiges of his doubts, his tensions were falling away and the welcoming lassitude of peaceful fatigue was claiming him.

The moon was rising now, casting the landscape into subtle hues of silver and grey; the soft warming scents of jasmine and colitas rose up around him, lulling his drowsying senses.

It was time to pull over.

His wearied eyes scanned the horizon, and found a small flicker of light.

Soon, a slender, wispy trail emerged from darkness, the soft, welcoming glow beckoning from some point along it's length.

Diego came to a stop, pausing before it, a small ghost of his earlier dreads flittering around in his mind.

Then, he pulled out into the dusty sands, leaving the road far behind him.


	2. There he stood in the doorway

Alone in the darkness, Diego followed his light.

The trail had grown rugged, the deep tracks of tires growing frailer and slimmer, but the faint, guiding ember grew larger with each passing second.

Soon, the tracks of animals conjoined in the sand with the thinning ruts and the long, slender highway behind him washed away, lost in the horizon.

Still, Alejandro's persistent, warning voice remain silent.

Here, under the stars and cloaked in darkness, Diego found a new and powerful assurance in himself, and an absolute certainty in his correctness of actions.

He rode on.

Then, a sulky grey silhouette began to rise on the horizon and the light grew ever brighter and more steady.

Soon, smaller shapes loomed up from the desert and out from the darkness before him.

Slowly, surely, a small town sprung to life from the desert's dusky floor, and Diego felt a wave of joy wash over him.

He accelerated, giddiness-freedom-singing in his soul.

The light brightened and soon, a gentle temor of bells began to rise up from the distance.

Then, his headlight revealed the simple, stuccoed form of an old Spanish Mission, a warm, glowing light welcoming from its windows.

Gradually, an old stable, a larger tavern, and a garrison emerged from the darkness, the unmistakable images of an old historic Californian town.

Diego's breath caught and a sudden odd chill ran cold shivers along his length. For a brief, disorienting moment, his reality diffused.

Then, an old memory stirred.

His mother's face smiling down at him, her hand gently touching at his own as she pointed out the small rows of timbers in the cabin's old flooring.

Reason-and certainty-returned and Diego knew he had found an old roadside attraction, like the cabin he and mother had visited so long ago.

Then, under a small trellis of wood, ivy and roses, his eyes caught a faint shimmer of movement.

The sharp outline of a man's silhouette emerged from the shadows, leaning casually against an oaken beam.

Diego's heart skipped, and a tremor passed over him.

In its wake, his headlight dimmed and the night grew silent. Diego found himself standing on the sandy street, his bike's image slipping away from the periphery of his vision.

A bone-deep chill descended, and this time, Diego's reality shattered.

The muscles of mouth and throat contracted, struggling to form some utterance and he teetered on the edge of astonishment and impossible recognition. The sure and absolute certainty that what he saw before him was not a man but an apparition.

Then, the wind caught his long, shimmering light hair, blowing out the tails of his coat with a subtle soft sound and he shifted, his scabbard gleaming and skittering against the post.

An unmistakable proof of his reality.

Diego faltered, recoiling, his balance failing and he felt his knees giving away.

Just as suddenly, a sure grip steadied him and he found his hand gathered within two, dark leather gloves, pale eyes looking up at him in wonder.

Then, all was silence.


	3. And she lit up a candle

Diego's next lucid awareness was the sensation of weightless motion. He drifted, in body and in mind, his level of consciousness rising only high enough to be cognizant of forward motion, and an unsteady rising and falling.

In lapses, he slipped into dream. Once again, he rode alone across the vast desert, only now upon a great, black stallion; the beast's hoofbeats pounding at the sands, carrying him onward.

Diego was no longer weak, or idle and feckless. He knew purpose at last and he rode ever faster toward it.

Then, the soft scent of roses drifted about him and once again he was rising upwards to wakefulness. Now, he could feel the unequal pressures beneath his arms and knew he was being borne-carried bodily-under another's power.

A delicate, intermittent brushing at his cheeks further revived his senses and Diego was aware of his head bobbing, skimming once again against the silken softness that had earlier touched at his face. Then, dropping suddenly lower, he found his lips pressed alternately against the warmth of sweet flesh, then stung by the stiffness of coarse hairs.

His heavy eyelids creased and parted to reveal a sea of shimmering gold and ashen stubble, the crisp, white flowing lines of an elegant collar.

Then, a sudden, dizzying jolt threw Diego's head forward and upright and a bright, stabbing of light forced his eyes to narrow.

Beyond him, in some far distant and darkened place, a candlelight was flickering, and beyond,

colors and shapes. The sharp, brilliant red, a cooling white and the luminous warmth of skin. Long, flowing darkened curves, gleaming first silvery than deep, shimmering brown.

His lips parted, bursting forth a single, incomprehensible syllable and he reached outward, in desperate entreat, a sense of immeasurable loss and longing seizing at his breast.

Then, once again, his reality dissolved around him.


	4. Chapter 4

_Trippy/Shippy incoming. Adult content begins here. There will be both slash and het in this story and mulitple pairings, hints of slash in this chapter._

For a time, Diego knew nothing. His mind lapsed into fugue, and he fled headlong into darkness and silence, beyond even the reach of his dreams.

Then, a coolness, soft and soothing beckoned him outward and into a growing awareness. Odd, disjointed imagery formed and scattered about his waking mind. Alejandro, his face creased in disdain, his head shaking in disgust as he uttered a powerful warning; the old tavern, somehow new and vibrant, and within so much life and hope: then, the dark, dusty street, now burning in the midday sun, the elegant figure, his hand at his hilt, turning to meet his gaze; a moonlit night and warm brown eyes, deep, full of fire and passion.

Soon, the images passed and a faint light touched at the edges of his closed eyelids. Diego knew now that he was reclining, his body slightly upright-as if in a kind of lounge-his head gently supported. A coolness, like a passing shadow, obscured the soft glow, and knew then the sensation of rising.

A firm pressure lifted the back of his neck. Moisture formed at his lips and they parted as the familiar, rounded edges of a vessel pressed against them. Sweet, cool liquid pooled on his tongue and he swallowed it eagerly, aware now of an aching thirst.

Reflexively, his hand reached upward and outwards in a voracious intreat. A deep chill touched at his exploring digits, his fingertips tingling to the point of ache. Then, as if breaking the surface of a cool lake and rising upwards towards the heat of the sun, the chill subsided, replaced by a silken warmth. It passed through his fingers, soothing and supple until his flesh was pressed against a firm yet pliant heat.

A vibration passed through his fingers and there was a sudden exhalation-like a small cry of astonishment- yet almost erotic in its timbre. Diego felt his own body shiver in a sudden, electric response. Unbidden, his eyes fully opened and the vessel slipped away, released by his parted lips as his jaw dropped in amazement.

He no longer shimmered in the silver of the moonlight, but the sense of his etheria remained. The apparition-unmistakable in his breeches and tailcoat-still gazed upon him with the same intense expression of wonder.

His light hair, now golden by candlelight was intertwined within Diego's own fingers and for the first time, Diego was fully aware of the man's cheek, pulsing-_vibrating-_beneath the flesh of his palm. Staggered, he felt his own body, tensed and throbbing with inexplicable but undeniable physical attraction.

Scandalised, he briefly foundered, stunned by own reactions. Then, an odd and uncharacteristic aplomb stole over him and he found his cheeks and eyebrows rising, his eyes flicking lightly in a long, slow sweep of exaggerated appreciation.

The brows of his apparition tightened, his head slightly tilting, in an expression of sincere confusion, then his moustache slightly twitched and Diego felt his own smile widen, his lips wetting and parting to speak.

"I seem to be making a habit of the most inappropriate of introductions."

At this, he meaningfully lightened his touch, letting his hand gently slip away. In the same moment, the soft pressure at the back of his neck subsided as the apparition withdrew his supporting hand to tease somewhat nervously at his own moustache. Then, to Diego's delight, he gave up all pretense and let himself smile.

The mood now lighter and the tension lifted, Diego at last extended his hand.

"Sincerely, sir, forgive my intrusions, my name is Diego Vega. Please call me Diego."

Once again, he felt the cool, sure grip of the apparition at his hand, then the man tipped his head and slightly bowed.

"I am Alc…" then the deep, cultured voice paused and his pale eyes seemed to turn briefly inward as if he were searching his mind for the proper words to use. Then, he began again.

" I am Luis Ramone. Everyone..simply calls me Luis. Welcome to our pueblo."


	5. Chapter 5

In the next instant, a sharp, brief sound of impact rose up from the near distance, breaking the moment and silencing Diego's reply at his lips.

Luis Ramone rolled his pale eyes and lifted his gloved hand to brush at his brow as a string of labored exclamations followed the earlier intrusion.

As the sounds grew nearer and more distinct, Diego recognised a few, colorful, if good-natured Spanish curses and Luis Ramone's attack upon his brow deepened in its intensity.

With a heavy sigh, he begged Diego's indulgence and rose in an elegant flourish.

"That will be Hymie, he's been seeing to your... conveyance."

Diego found himself frowning slightly at the irregular and obsolete word, but in a moment of epiphany, it occurred to Vega that English might not be Luis' primary language.

Any further speculations were swiftly forgotten at the appearance of a bizarre silhouette framed by the doorway in the hallway beyond.

Stupefied, Diego found himself unsteadily rising, his hand catching at the furnishings to steady himself.

The approaching figure was clad in an archaic and exaggerated military costume complete with epaulets and a grand moustache, his unshapely form and whimsical expression bringing to mind more a toy solider than a genuine article.

After doffing his elaborate helmet, he came to stand at very loose attention.

"Mi Alcalde" he began, but then fell silent as Luis' brow lifted slightly in a subtle admonition. He began again, this time in English, confirming Diego's earlier hypothesis.

"It is in the barracks, Don Luis."

At this, Ramone initiated a brief round of introductions, and the newcomer, Hymie Mendoza, stepped forward to greet Diego warmly. Despite his joviality, Hymie's movements seemed labored and his breath was short. Bizarrely, the marks of thin tires were etched in a reddened dust on his back and shoulders, and with some embarrassment, Diego felt obligated to inquire at the source.

"I hope my conveyance hasn't given you any difficulty, Hymie."

"It was very heavy, Don Diego," the man began, bemusedly brushing at the marks, " but it was no trouble."

"You carried it!?" Diego stifled a smile at Ramone's incredulous expression.

"Si, mi..Don Luis. I did not know how to ride it."

The admission seemed to render Ramone speechless and for a moment the three men stood in silence. Then, the eye contact between Ramone and Mendoza seemed to deepen, as if some span of time had separated them and in that moment, each had reconnected to the other again.

Then both men laughed and after another long moment of connection, Ramone spoke at last.

"I'll see to Don Diego, go on and rest your back."

"Muchas gracias, Don Luis!" and with that, than man took his leave of Diego and departed, somehow just as bizarrely as he had arrived.


	6. Chapter 6

"El es un buen hombre y no merece su destino."

_He is a good man and does not deserve his fate._

At this, Diego started. For a time, his mind had lingered in the moment of Mendoza's parting, but his host's sombre, softly spoken words both roused and staggered him, as he seemed to hear them spoken in both languages.

Then, just as quickly, Ramone spoke again, this time his tone much lighter.

"However, he has yet to discover the wheel."

Their eyes connected and suddenly Diego found himself smiling and the tension of the awkward moment dissipated. Now more relaxed, Vega found himself eager to indulge his curiosity.

"He seems very serious about his role."

At this, Ramone frowned slightly, and his eye contact seemed to briefly intensify, then he brightened, as if in light of some inward recognition.

"Hymie was once a soldier, and I think he will always be so."

"And you are his Alcalde."

Ramone's gloved finger teased lightly at his lips, and once again, his eyes contact seemed to deepen, then his head tipped fractionally in acknowledgement.

"Si, esa es _mi_ papel."

For a moment, Diego's command of the language faltered. Despite his own Spanish heritage, his understanding was sluggish at best.

"La mente se olvida, pero recuerda el corazón."

_Beyond him, in some far distant and darkened place, a candlelight was flickering and beyond, colors and shapes. The sharp, brilliant red, a cooling white and the luminous warmth of skin. Long, following, darkened curves, gleaming first silvery, then deep, shimmering brown._

"There was a girl."

The revelation-the memory-erupted simultaneously from Diego's lips and his consciousness and at his words, Ramone's eyes widened.

"You saw her?"

_Immeasurable lost and longing seizing at his breast._

An echo of his earlier, inexplicable pain stole Diego's breath and for a time, he could only nod in acknowledgement, struggling to articulate himself.

Then, at last, he found the words.

"Era tan hermosa , tan triste.."


	7. Chapter 7

Then, once again, his father's disdainful image returned, and Diego saw the full folly of his childish adventures as reflected through Alejandro's judgemental eyes. His dreamy, romantic angst for a sad, pretty stranger, his whimsical musings on toy soldiers, his fantastical imaginings of a shimmering and beautiful ghost.

Diego's eyelids clenched tightly, his body tensing, as he fought desperately against the tide.

He saw himself carried and helpless as a child; languishing like a distressed maiden on a fainting couch; swooning at Luis Ramone's feet.

His hand entangled in Luis's golden hair.

His lips parting sighing in fervent release at a soft, feathery brush at his chin.

"Diego."

"_A __través de mis ojos."_

He saw Luis's hands reaching outward to grasp at his as his senses left him, Mendoza's warm smile and his kind and eager greeting, the beautiful girl bearing a candle to light his way.

He saw himself supported, welcomed and guided.

He saw Luis, his eyes closed, his flesh vibrating against Diego's palm.

He saw himself loved.

"Your journey has been long and hard, Diego, let me take you to my home."

Once again, Luis's hand reached out for Diego's and this time, he did not falter.

Lead by his host's hand and guided by his candle, Diego's journey began anew.


	8. Chapter 8

A slender tendril of sunlight tickled at Diego's closed eyelids, warming his face with its glow, and sighing contentedly, he shifted tighter into the bedclothes.

The coarse textures and the scent, now familiar and sweet to his nostrils, roused his mind slowly from a dreamless slumber and with a supple stretching of his limbs, he began to waken.

Somewhere, in the far distance, there were the subtle sounds of voices and hoofbeats and nearer, a soft, lyrical timbre, like the actions and movement of waters. In his growing awareness, Diego's senses broadened, his nostrils gathering the scent of dampness entwined with the stronger perfumes of things both natural and artificial. Nearer still, and all about him, the subtle fragrance of his host and his cologne, now indelible to Diego from the passing of the night in his room and bed.

As his eyes opened, he knew now the grey shadows and long, angles of light which spoke of a lateness of day, and knew also that in the passing hours, Ramone had returned to the room as Diego had slept. The long coat and cravat he had worn the previous night hung on the corner of the large, heavy bureau and other, small disturbances about him suggested that the man had groomed himself as well. Now, as his gaze deepened, Diego became aware of a selection of items, displayed clearly in front of a basin and vase, and a light blue suit laid out over his own clothes in the elegant, carved wooden chair.

Nearer, at the base of Ramone's bed, a handwritten sheet, which upon gathering in his hand, Diego discovered was a note. The hand and writing were almost archaic in appearance, but the page still bore the trace scent of fresh ink, and more of his host's fragrance, and the words, like all around him, warmed at Diego's cheeks and brought a smile to his lips.

Again, in reading, he felt the pleasure and warmth of welcome and it seemed that, in this strange yet somehow familiar place, he had found something long lost and longed for. With joy singing in his spirit, his heart lifted, Diego found himself eager to begin his day.

Rising, he first paused to glance out the small window. In the fading, afternoon light, Diego was surprised to find the same empty street which had welcomed him in the moonlight, now bustling with activity. There were wagons, animals and dozens of people, all dressed in the same period as Luis and Jamie and even on the closest inspection, Diego could spot nothing that even suggested the modern world. If not for the presence of his own clothes, the illusion would have been utterly perfect. Now, gazing down at the edge of leathers, almost concealed by the new suit above, he felt a powerful impulse to discard the anachronism and merge himself entirely into this new world.

Standing at the mirror, he lifted and raised the suit, and discovered, just as Luis had written, that it appeared a perfect fit. The short jacket and flared trousers reminded him of the costumes worn by the Caballeros, and on discovering the sash, Diego realised that it was, in fact the real article.

Gazing now at own image, he seemed to reimagine himself, and so easily did the new image form that it was if Diego had already known the man the clothes would make of him. Now, turning from the mirror, he gathered his old clothing, his old life and with a swift motion, tossed them aside and into the shadows beneath the chair.

In the mirror before him, the new man, happy and confident in his new world, smiled to share his approval and with a polite nod, Diego turned from him and walked to the door and his new life beyond.


End file.
